


Taking care of the F1 teen drama

by teaceylon



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, basically just some conversation, finding out, literally just babbling, not direct mentioning of the two's relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 00:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20416550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaceylon/pseuds/teaceylon
Summary: Unexpected garage incident. Unexpected hotel visits. How Christian was not prepared for the teen drama in F1 circus.





	Taking care of the F1 teen drama

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, so plz bear with terrible grammar and incorrect wordings :)  
This prompt is purely fuelled by my instant attachment to the slash and the sport.  
And all those F1 memes. Gold.

It must be something big. His phone has not stopped buzzing for the past 20 minutes, and he dared not take a look.

At first, it was a text from Sebastian, but before he could tap and open it, Mattia’s calls flooded the notifications, and he never got a chance to really grasp what just happened.

Christian thought about picking up, but suddenly he was getting cheeky emojis, smiley faces with eggplants from Toto and Cyril at the same time, and that most definitely meant nothing good, so he chickened out in the end. After 5 minutes and numerous texts of “WTF?” “What happened?” “Was that real?”, he got too confused and just had to confront it — then Dr. Marko called in, two rings and hung up — he's legitimately terrified.

“Ok, just spit it out. What was going on?” He finally picked up when Lee called, after 15 voice messages.

“Uh, it’s about…”

“Max, of course it’s Max.” He’s not sure if he’s amused by the media attention on the Red Bull star, or annoyed by his own built-up shaping Max as this young champion material, talented, reckless and powerful.

“It shouldn’t be a big deal, not much media fuss, I’d assume. Just…I don’t know if you’ve seen or heard about it yet…”

“No I haven’t seen shit. I was back at the meeting room after the celebration. Walk me through it.” Resigning, Christian took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead.

“Right. So after the celebration and media panel, Max didn’t return to our garage. He went straight to Ferrari’s…”

“What business could he possibly have with Ferrari? He’s got no seat there. Jos had dinner with Toto and the whole grid was talking about Mercedes.”

“Both Jos or the seat were not his target.”

“Oh.” One worry down, a million others to go. “Go on.”

“So he went to the Ferrari garage, and obviously the engineers were quite confused as he’s not a regular guest, and they thought he’s there to meet with Sebastian, but no…”

“So it’s Charles?” He sighed, secretly hoping it’s not going to be one of those gossip, young drivers bickering over each other, Ocon vs Verstappen all over again.

“Yeah. Did you know about it?”

“What, that the media hype of next-generation-rivalry isn’t enough?”

“The gossip's definitely not enough. Not in race aspect though.” Contrasting Christian’s annoyance, Lee sounded rather, humorous at this point. “So despite the questioning looks, he found Charles, said nothing, just shoved him up the wall…”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly. But no not in the way you imagined.”

“Was that why Mattia’s been bogging me? Did he punch the Ferrari golden boy? Is the engineer’s shocking expression becoming viral meme? Is FIA involved in investigation?”  
At this point, Christian was more tired than concerned, and started forming media responses and excuses in his head, claiming this things happen to young drivers, as Kimi would call them ‘boys’, that they’d need more experience to grow and that they’ll be great fighters to provide great entertainment…

“Well, probably Yes to Mattia and internet meme, and No he didn’t hurt Leclerc and I doubt FIA would take action on this one.“ Lee paused for a brief second.  
“Uh, he shoved Leclerc up the wall and kissed him, uhm, passionately?”

Silence.  
For a moment, Christian thought something went wrong with the phone.

“Not that greeting ‘how-do-you-do’ kind of kiss.” Lee sounded amused “Max just seriously…”

“Kissed Charles. I get it. For real.”  
He hasn't got his head to work around the idea just yet. What did it mean? What did this "passionate kissing" the other driver even mean?

Lee couldn’t hold it in anymore and straight-out started laughing. “That’s what he did. Max Verstappen, our Red Bull genius just kissed the Ferrari golden boy in front of the grid members.”

So that’s why Sebastian and Mattia called him like crazy. Now the headache is real.  
“Was it a joke? did he do it to anger Charles? or how did Charles react to it? Did he push him back, or any marshals getting in to stop the action or…”

“I don’t think it’s a joke, at least not one to rile up Leclerc. Leclerc took it rather well, uh that sounds a bit weird, but he obviously wasn’t angry, just surprised.”

He should’ve seen this coming.  
Christian knew there were something going on when the two avoided each other so visibly in front of the camera while they were stealing looks in between. He thought it was because of all the widely painted rivalry stories, but this was a whole new direction.

“I didn’t have enough drinks for this. Not even for the GP win.” He sighed heavily, still not ready to give in completely. “Did you know about this? Why do you sound, if not slightest bit, excited?”

“Unmnnn….Max did say that he’s kind of catching feelings. But I wouldn't have thought…” Lee trailed off a bit before correcting himself. “Alright, it’s like getting confirmed. I mean if it had to be anyone, Leclerc seemed like a decent…”

“We’re in F1 circus, not in F1 teen drama.”

“You gotta admit it’s pretty entertaining.”

This is going to be such a clickbait article if it gets out.  
Why is it now all the team principals, engineers and mechanics are co-parenting the drivers?

Christian hastily hung up and started scrolling down his contacts, and before he found the name (why is S so far down the list), the German called.

“I have no words.” Sebastian sounded amused. “‘RedBull gives you wings.’ Max’s really living that up.”

“…Where are they now?”

“Back at the hotel, I guess. Max stormed out the motorhome right after, like he regained his sanity in an instant. Charles didn’t say anything, but quickly left the scene as well. No one dared to ask further.”

Collapsing on his comfortable armchair, Christian felt so stressed, even more than in the races.  
“Why is it always Max to be blamed? I mean, Charles has his stories around the paddock with engineers, mechanics, Prema…or anyone talking about his impossible eyelashes or green eyes.”

“Those were all within Ferrari garage, home turf with people Mattia trusted.” Sebastian said, as if nothing was new “Not with Max. Mad Max, the uncontrollable, supposed rival.”

Christian sighed heavily. “I didn’t think it would, really be a thing.”

“Apparently it was in a heat of the moment that Max wanted to find someone to celebrate with.”

“And it just had to be Charles.“

“Or it is exactly Charles who he’d want to celebrate with. I don’t know what's going on between young drivers. These boys literally grew up together.” He can imagine Sebastian shrugging at the other end of the line “Or you can ask Pierre, he’s one of yours.”

“…it’s not a good idea if Pierre and I were seen talking secretly, as if the summer break rumors are not juicy enough.”

“We’re lucky that no one reacted quickly enough to take pictures or videos, Max walked in determined and moved fast. I don’t think there’d be media leak…or at best they’d only have a really blurry image.”

Christian laughed in desperation “How do I deal with Red Bull son falling in love with the Ferrari camp?”

“Your son’s already enchanted by my daughter, so that shouldn’t be new for you.”

Christian groaned, remembering how his son chased Matilda down the hotel hall in Spielberg. “Not funny if we count Mattia and Marko in.”

Now Sebastian’s turn for silence. “……Guess not even crazy Max would be up against Marko.”

“……will need to raid Max before he escapes.”

——

Early morning at 06.50am, Christian found himself standing with Sebastian at the door of Max’s hotel room.

“Honestly, what are we doing here?“ Sebastian yawned. “at least you should invite Mattia.”

“You know Marko calls at 7am in the morning. We’re right on time to catch Max off guard.” Feeling more nervous than sleepy, Christian said. “And I just thought it’d be better to have Max face a driver than the team principal. Someone he could relate to, and someone I trust.”

“I had a nightmare of Max angrily running everyone off track.”

“I had a nightmare of Toto and Cyril saying ‘congrats to the dad’ to me at a press conference. This is not a ‘bad dream’ contest.”

“What do you want to say to them?” Sebastian looks like he had no clue in this awkward situation. “We don’t know what exactly happened between the two. Or what exactly we want to do with this?“

“From what I’ve heard last time, Ferrari should still be mad about Max, and this Max-Charles history did not play well.”

“Oh, you know way too little about Charles.” the German laughed “The appearance of the shy and adorable youngster had been the popular charm in Ferrari family. Not as innocent as that.”

Christian does not have a plan. Slightly agreeing with Sebastian, but there’s also no point standing in the hotel hall way playing ping-pong, Christian just went knocking on on the door.

Three knocks.  
And three more.  
Four more knocks. And Sebastian is about to punch the door.

“Wait, wait, is it the hotel room service?”

A sleepy voice with french accent went through, and before any of them could respond, the door was pulled open and they were greeted with a Charles Leclerc, brown sleepyhead, rubbing his eyes, wrapped in nothing but bedsheets and a pair of boxers with RedBull logo.

The air stilled for a moment.

“This is Max’s room.” Christian could hear himself raising an eyebrow, trying his best to put on a calm, James Bond voice.

“Wasn’t the man I was expecting, but” Sebastian made an effort to sound cheerful and friendly. “Good morning Charles.”

“Who was it?” Just the perfect timing as the Dutchman growled from inside the room. “Charles?”

As if choked, the Monegasque stared wide-eyed, mouth opened and shut several times without making a sound, and it was visible that he was trying to come up with words from a half-sober brain, waiting for a lightbulb at the top of the head to magically light up.

Lowering his voice and gesturing silence between them, Christian quickly instructed.  
“Take a deep breath. We’re not going to bite. You’re not in trouble, yet.”

“Close the door. Tell Max you saw us through the peephole, get him to open the door again. We’ll pretend this 5 second didn’t happen. And please, just, put some trousers on.”

Charles nodded frantically and shut the door in no time, with some cursing behind the thin wall.

After 10 seconds, Sebastian finally broke the silence.

“That’s refreshing. I don’t get to see Charles in this completely off-guard situation very often.“

“It’s going to take 5 minutes.” Coming back from the shock, Christian actually smiled. “How could I have forgotten, they’re just kids. Not much older than my son.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Great. Be prepared to meet them in matching pajamas.”

“Awww very cute. I’m sure Mattia would enjoy seeing Charles wearing RedBull underwear.”

Sebastian couldn't hold back laughing “Argh, Toto must’ve aged 10 years just dealing with Lewis and Nico back in those days.”

“I’ll sign myself up for his therapist and yoga sessions.”

Seeing some genuine reaction from the young driver suddenly lifted bit of burden from them, now it’d be the drivers to be nervous.

The bright future of Formula 1, they say.

Making fun of the young drivers who seemed invincible and powerful on the track, but suddenly shrinking to sheepish teenager was actually kind of fun.

Just kids and teenagers, and a bright, entertaining, silly gossip intertwined with complicated relationships, a typical Formula 1 season. We expect nothing less.


End file.
